


Cookie-Scented Utopia

by Zercalo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek has been a very good boy, Gen, Laura gets to live, M/M, TPTB - Freeform, Time Travel, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 14:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zercalo/pseuds/Zercalo
Summary: In a rather josslandesque cop out, Derek gets rewarded for his efforts.





	Cookie-Scented Utopia

Derek wakes up. He’s standing - leaning against the doorway, actually - watching Laura pick up her bag.

 

He remembers how he got here, but he’s also feeling all the emotions of the moment - shame, guilt, fear that Laura will find out what happened to their family if she goes back home. Anger. She put him in his place earlier, Alpha-style, and his ears are still ringing.

 

But he now also knows she’ll die if he lets her go, so he pushes all those aside.

 

“Wait,” he says. Laura huffs and doesn’t slow down, because he’s said that before. “Wait for me to pack. We’ll take the car. I’ll go with you.”

 

He’s got her attention now, that’s for sure. He’d dug his feet refusing to go back and they had been fighting for days. “What are you playing at?”

 

She radiates anger, and Derek wants to retreat, not be contrary, because he’s feeling truly, properly anchored for the first time in forever, on both planes of reality, but he can’t afford that now. There’s another duffle bag in the back of the closet in the small hallway and Derek digs around to find it.

 

“I died today,” he says. “In 2020.”

 

He looks over the dusty bag to Laura and she’s frowning. She knows the rhythm of his heart so well, she can tell he’s lying from a mile away. She knows he’s telling the truth.

 

It’s easier not to look at her when he continues. “The Powers That Be” Laura makes a noise in her throat but he doesn’t let her interrupt him - she’s tried to make a deal with them when their pack burned alive and failed, “They showed me my - score, for the lack of a better word. The good and the bad that I’ve done. There was - there was more good than bad.” A lot more.

 

There was a talk about seeking redemption and overcompensation around that point, but it’s unimportant. He’s made an effort, done good, saved people.

 

“”So they offered me a deal - a reward.”

 

“Alright,” Laura slowly says as he empties his underwear drawer into the bag. “What was your reward?”

 

“You are. I asked for mom - for everyone,” Derek glances at her shortly, with regret. “I wasn’t that good, apparently. I asked for you then and they agreed. I thought they’d just - resurrect you or something but it seems like they sent me back in time. I guess we’re creating a new reality right now.”

 

Laura leans back at the doorframe, mouth twisted. “So I’m supposed to die in Beacon Hills.”

 

Derek grabs his toiletry bag, vaguely unnerved at how he knows exactly where it is, even though it’s been years.

 

“A lot of bad things are supposed to happen in Beacon Hills in the next few years. But I can’t let them happen this time - I won’t.”

 

He’s done packing - he’s never had too many things after the fire. Laura locks the apartment before they leave - probably forever. Derek feels no regrets, unlike the last time he had to do this. He was alone then.

 

They’re already on the highway when Laura’s wrapped her head around what he’s been telling her about enough to ask, “So what happens to me?”

  
  


***

“But he’s unresponsive. I’ve been - I  _tried_ …”

 

“Unresponsive but conscious, apparently. He’s had little to do but plot revenge for years. Laura, Peter is - he does a lot of pretty terrible things. But he turns out pretty okay in the end.”

 

The car is going a little too fast - Derek is surprised how little he enjoys it when it’s someone he cares about inside with him. He doesn’t tell her to slow down.

 

“We could check him out, maybe?” Laura suggests. “It’s not easy, taking care of someone in his condition, but we need him to want to heal.”

 

Derek nods with a smile, because he’s got a plan. Peter is not to be left alone with Laura, even though she’s much better prepared now, and anyway...

 

“I don’t think it’s going to be as hard as you think. He’s got a daughter and I know where to find her.”

  


***

 

“So it’s going to be four of us,” Laura says when he finishes telling her about Malia. “That’s - not a bad number.”

 

She sounds excited, almost happy. Derek makes sure he watches her face when he tells her, “Possibly five.”

 

He’s pretty sure Cora is going to come back if they go get her. And she didn’t stay for Derek - he was a mess, it was the right call - but she will stay for Laura. 

 

When he tells Laura about the ranch and the pack that took their kid sister in, Laura almost drives them off the road. There are marks on the side of the car and everything.

 

Derek laughs through it.

 

***

  


“I don’t trust that guy,” Laura says over the burgers at a rest stop when he tells her about the sacrifices and the Nemeton waking up and how Deaton advised three teenagers to die to try to save their parents.

 

“You never even mentioned him. I thought he was the Alpha for a while.”

 

Laura looks at him like he’s a very stupid individual indeed and Derek laughs again.

 

He’s laughing a lot today. He’s got so many reasons to laugh.

 

Maybe he should order another cookie.

  


***

  


“Did you ever find out who started the fire, then?”

 

Derek knew this was coming and he’s been procrastinating. There’s a part of him that is still angry at himself, guilty and horrified. Afraid of her reaction.

 

“I’ve always known who started the fire. It was my fault.”

 

She raises her eyebrows, disbelieving, “ _You_ started…?”

 

“Kate Argent started the fire. But it was me - I told her about the tunnels.”

 

Laura stops the car and turns to face him.

 

***

  


He doesn’t tell her everything. He doesn’t give her too many details - just enough to make sure she knows what happened, what might happen. What kind of danger and horror the Nemeton can attract.

 

He does tell her about his brief stint as the Alpha.

 

“You can’t just turn people, Jesus, Derek,” Laura huffs. “Don’t you think I’ve been having the urge, too? The need to expand, to grow, it’s always so strong but it’s more important to keep the two of us safe. I agree you picked pretty well but...”

 

Then he tells her about his betas leaving, about Erica and Boyd dying and she doesn’t try to lecture him again.

  


***

  


They arrive in Beacon Hills very early in the morning. Derek hasn’t slept a wink - and he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t need it, not really, not yet. He’s afraid he’ll never be this clear-headed again, this awake.

 

The ruin of the house is still standing, the tunnels smell like stale air and wet concrete - no one’s been down here in years.

 

“I guess we can’t bring Peter here,” Derek says, eyes a hole in the back wall of the house.

 

“We’ll have to sell the apartment and buy a house first - I need to call to work so they can start looking for someone new. Peter will just have to stay in hospital for a bit longer. We’ll go see him today, okay?”

 

Derek nods. “And we should go talk to the Sheriff. I’ll tell him about Kate. He’s - he’ll see it through.”

 

They leave the ruin of the house behind.

 

The Sheriff looks more than a decade younger than the last time Derek saw him, and he also looks unburdened, almost happy. It makes Derek feel better about being here, about the what he’s trying to do.

 

The office is full of familiar smells and there is a picture on the desk Derek itches to turn around and look at. He doesn’t waver as he accuses Kate Argent of arson and murder.

 

The Sheriff tells them he needs to investigate before he can deal with Kate, find some hard evidence, but he offers them coffee and tips on real estate and hotels in Beacon Hills before sending them out of his office, so that’s good.  

 

When they leave the office, Stiles is leaning on the counter and talking to a deputy. Derek freezes, basically mid-step - was Stiles ever really this young? The hallway is cloying with his scent - only vaguely artificially chemical, which means he’s not misusing his medication and also, oddly tinted with ginger - and his hair is so short it makes his eyes look huge when he turns them to Derek.

 

To Derek and  _Laura_ , who is snapping her fingers in front of Derek’s face.

 

“What did you  _do_?” Stiles breathes out, heart going into overdrive.

 

“What?” says the deputy - the same girl Derek sort of hit on that one time when they needed to distract her.

 

“Derek,” Laura whispers. “Was he one of your pack?”

 

“No.” And he’s not lying either, not really, because he knows what Laura has meant to ask. They need to get out of here. Derek starts walking again, quickly. Behind them, Stiles leaves a tupperware container of breakfast foods for his dad before he’s following them out.

 

“What’s up with this kid?” Laura mutters as they go down the short flight of stairs. “He’s following us.”

 

Derek’s acutely aware of it, so he stops next to the car and waits. Stiles follows them there, easily, heart still overly loud but smiling. He’s - smiling.

 

“Hello, Laura. Glad to see you in one piece,” he says, pointedly, then pets the Camaro, “Hey, baby,” and only then meets Derek’s eyes. “Derek. What did you  _do_?”

 

“I didn’t do anything to you,” Derek says, defensively, because Stiles was never a part of the deal, not like this. What the hell happened?

 

“We were just reporting something, kid,” Laura tells him. “Scurry away.”

 

Stiles frowns at her over the hood of the car. “Did you sell your soul on the crossroad somewhere?”

 

Derek rolls his eyes, “What did I tell you about picking up lore from Supernatural?”

 

“She’s alive!” Stiles throws a hand at Laura like Derek might not be aware of her. “It’s 2011! What did you do?”

 

Derek looks over at his sister, wonders where to start. She looks very much alive, with her hair in knots from the wind and a wild wonder in her eyes.

 

“I didn’t really…”

 

“He died,” Laura interrupts.

 

Stiles bites into his lower lip, too hard for it to be an unconscious action before he says, “Okay…”

 

“Laura was my - reward, of sorts. You were not a part of the deal.”

 

“Deal with who? What did they say, exactly? Did you write it down? When was this? Are you sure this is not some elaborate, extra-realistic scheme? That we’re not tied up in someone’s basement, in an extra special strain of wolfsbane up to our eyeballs? Don’t look at me like that, Laura, it’s happened before!”

 

“It’s not a scheme,” Derek says. “It’s real.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Hey, maybe this is not the best place to do this?” Laura cuts in before Derek can answer, nodding at the police station.

 

“Come to my house,” Stiles suggests, deflating slightly. He waves at the two deputies peering out of the window at them. “Dad’s working. Obviously. Follow me.”  


The jeep is in the parking lot, in a decent condition. Stiles gets inside without waiting for them to say anything - if Derek needed confirmation that this is actually Stiles from before, trapped in his sixteen-year-old body, that’s it. He’s only developed that kind of confidence after a few years with the bureau.

 

“Well?” Laura says as she follows the jeep. “Who is that?”  


“Stiles? He’s - he wasn’t one of my betas. He’s Scott’s friend.” He’s told Laura about Scott and Stiles, but he’s not sure how much she remembers. It was a lot of information.

 

“Right. You seem kind of close, though.”

 

“Not really,” Derek tells her but it feels like a lie, so he adds, “I haven’t seen him in almost a year, before.”

 

“Well, at least you’re not alone, right?”

 

“He went through hell, Laura. That was one of the reasons this was a good thing, that he maybe doesn’t have to go through all that this time around.”

 

She hums under her breath, gives him this tiny, quick smirk, but doesn’t continue the conversation.

 

Stiles just pauses to make sure they’re pulling in behind him before he disappears into the house, the door left wide open behind him. Laura narrows her eyes at the house. “He’s a piece of work, Der.”  


Derek snorts, “I know he looks twelve years old and sometimes talks like he is, but try to remember you’re dealing with a fully trained FBI agent with a degree in Criminology and Folklore and that he probably has on him a bag of mountain ash he knows how to use.”

 

“That kid?” Laura says, eyes narrowed like she’s suspecting a prank. “In less than ten years from now?”

 

“Come on.”

 

The house is very clean, especially considering that only a teenage boy and an overworked father live there. Derek’s only been to this house a few times before. Everything smells like ginger powder and sugar, like cookies.

 

“So I’ve tried everything I could think of - like,  _everything_ , every single thing,” Stiles is saying from the kitchen before Derek and Laura even close the front door. “and I’ve seen all sorts of impossible things but time travel? Really?”

 

“It’s not really time travel,” Laura answers when they walk through the kitchen. “The Powers That Be don’t perceive time in the same way we do.” She’s done a lot of digging on this, so it’s no wonder she knows about it. No wonder she believed Derek so easily.

 

They take a seat at the round kitchen table between the kitchen and the living room. There’s a yellowing handmade tablecloth thrown over it. It has a deep brown smudge just a few inches from the place where Stiles has spread his hands on top of it.

 

“I was in 2020, working a case. Then I was in 2011, making popcorn. That’s time travel no matter how you spin it.” Stiles looks up at Derek, looking upset. “I was working a case in 2020 when you died. That really happened?”

 

“I did. You can’t mistake it for anything else, believe me. I was dead.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“An Alpha in Montana heard she could get stronger if she kills her own beta - or a dozen. It was a large pack. She was the only one I found when I got there.”

 

“And you went there alone. Without backup. Without  _telling_  anyone, you dumbass. It’s a miracle you made it to your thirties.”

 

“Barely,” Laura agrees, jumping on the scold wagon. “You barely made to your thirties, Derek, what the hell?”  


“You barely made it to twenty-three! How am I the one getting a lecture here?”

 

“Because she had no way of knowing dear uncle Peter was batshit insane, you went to confront yet another fucking demon wolf on your own.”

 

“And how old were you when you died, huh? Just because it didn’t stick it doesn’t mean it doesn’t count!”

 

“This is the most morbid conversation I’ve ever had,” Laura says, but she’s holding back a laugh. It doesn’t sit right with Derek, her ease with this, but of course it doesn’t feel real to her. It’s not real to her.

 

She will still probably have to deal with the consequences.

 

“So what now? I’ve been trying to get dad on Isaac’s case and look for Maila - but dad can’t do anything for Isaac on my word alone and I don’t even know if I could do anything for Malia if I do find her. She’d probably try to eat me.”

 

Derek remembers how far gone Malia was, so he might not be wrong.

 

“We need a house first, before we track down Malia,” Laura says. “She’ll need stable, safe environment. And Isaac… you’re really that determined to get this kid involved?”

 

“Yes,” Derek says.

 

Stiles makes a face, “Isaac is a pain in the ass, but his dad is locking him in the freezer when he gets a bad grade, Laura. You don’t have to bite him or anything. Maybe just go and put a fear of God in Mr. Lahey?” Then he laughs, “The fear of Alpha.”

 

Laura looks over at Derek, “Do you normally just roll over for him?”

 

Stiles blanches, but Derek sinks lower into the chair, comfortable and placid, smirks at Laura, “I’m used to being bossed around.”

 

Stiles relaxes. “And his plans usually consist of him throwing himself in front of the danger. Or, when the situation allows it, backflipping directly on top of the danger. It gets old.”

 

“That was a lie,” Laura points out, amused.

 

“So it has some everlasting aesthetic appeal. I’d still rather he  _didn’t do that_ , you know?”

 

“You’d better protect him this time around, babe,” Laura says easily, discarding the dramatics in her mildest no-bullshit tone. “You did a piss poor job  _before_.”

 

“Babe,” Stiles repeats, faint.

 

“Short for a fourteen-year-old possibly useful smartass, obviously.”

 

“I’m sixteen right now technically and you should go see Lahey after dark, because that’s much scarier.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Laura says dryly. Derek can tell she agrees but she’s disappointed she can’t do it right now. She needs to be active and driving for days and  _talking_  is not the right kind of action for her. “Any suggestions what I should do with my time until then?”

 

“Up to you,” Stiles says generously, ignoring her mild sarcasm. “Completely up to you. But. If you’re going to see Peter, his crazy accomplice is finishing her shift at 3.30 today. Might be a good idea you put your extra special senses to a good use and follow her around, see if you can find something?”

 

Laura takes a look at her phone. “It’s not even ten. I’m gonna find a motel, get some sleep.”

 

“You can take the couch. Dad’s working, I’m going to see Scott. I’m trying to prepare his poor heart for the arrival of the Argents.”

 

Laura lets out a growl that makes Derek want to cow in a corner even though he knows it’s just a reaction to the mention of the Argents but Stiles doesn’t care. He touches Derek’s shoulder on his way out - the contact is short but firm.

 

Laura wanders off to find the couch, checks it out. “Tell me about this accomplice.”

 

Derek tells her, though his memory of the woman is pale and distant. She settles under the couch throw that smells mostly like the Sheriff and detergent, sets her phone to wake her up in a couple of hours.

 

Derek finds his way upstairs. Mind in a pleasant, warm fuzz, he doesn’t even question himself as he opens the window to air out the smell of lube and deodorant. There is a half-eaten ginger cookie on a plate on Stiles’ desk and it’s definitely fresher and tastier than those he’s been buying on their way to Beacon Hills.

 

When the cookie is gone, Derek takes his jacket and shoes off and gets under Stiles’ covers. Laura’s got things to do but he doesn’t and after the long few days he’s had, he’s finally perfectly content to sleep as long as he can.

 

Downstairs, Laura groans, “Try not to get arrested, for the love of God.”

 

But he doesn’t have a single worry to weigh him down, not today. Derek falls asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, I could just switch the first and the last sentence and we'd get a much different story. ;)


End file.
